"THERE YOU ARE!" A loud voice boomed into the wind.
At the sudden sound, Marsil turned by the lake to see Hemlock striding towards them with eager steps. He was the one who had spoken. At the young man's arrival, the Prince removed his hand from Esabel's and the Princess turned slightly pink.
They had been standing together for a while now by the lake, just staring into the water and holding hands. Marsil hadn't said a word the entire time. Neither did she. But somehow the quiet time she spent with him was more enjoyable than the times she spent at the Castle in sewing sessions and harp lessons.
She had learned many great things as a Princess; the proper regal gait that was befitting a young woman of her stature, the posture her body must always carry in a crowd. The Governess of the Ivory Castle had taught her from a very young age all the necessary ways 'To be a Princess.'
